


Simple Man

by ready_to_kick_some_ass



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Season six speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ready_to_kick_some_ass/pseuds/ready_to_kick_some_ass
Summary: After returning to the Lighthouse and learning about what happened while he had been sleeping, Fitz withdraws himself without really noticing it. When Jemma confronts him about it he realizes, he needs a break from everything. He decides to visit his mother in Scotland. Although it hurts her, Jemma lets him go. Arriving at his mother's house, Fitz is in for a surprise. Someone left a letter for him there.





	Simple Man

**Author's Note:**

> Changed this into an One Shot, because I neither have the muse nor the time to write a chapter like this for every character right now :3

He plays the words in his head like a song. A silent endless loop. Lyrics he doesn’t dare to share.  
He keeps them inside his mind for days.  
Until something happens, and he feels that the words are suddenly more than just a rhythm of doubtful thoughts.

*

“You’re avoiding me,” Jemma says.  
She’s laying on their bed, looking at Fitz tiredly. Her voice sounds bitter.

Fitz looks at her from where he’s sitting on the tabl. His hand, holding a pencil, hovers over an empty piece of paper. He just thought he had an idea. But now it’s definitely gone again. Jemma’s words made it escape back into the unreachable, more confused parts of his mind.  
Fitz frowns.  
_Do I_? He asks himself, still processing Jemma’s words.  
Out loud he says, “No. What makes you think ... I’m not avoiding you, Jemma.”

Jemma wipes a strand of hair out of her face. She looks frustrated now. Frustrated and … sad.  
“Do you know how long it is since we hugged or cuddled? Days, Fitz. _Days_. You wait with going to bed until you think I sleep. And you’re up in the morning before I even open my eyes. You sit there at the table for hours or stare out of the window at the ocean. But you don’t look at _me_.”

 _Oh._  
Fitz swallows.  
He feels his stomach drop.  
“I’m sorry,” he says carefully. “I … it really wasn’t my intention to make you sad.”

Jemma shakes her head. She sighs. After a moment, she gets up from the bed slowly, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture.     
“I miss you, Fitz,” she says in a trembling voice. “I get that you need time to … to get used to the situation. But I love you and I … I _need_ you. You have to stop pushing me away. We can do this together. Let me help. Let me …”  
She stops and shakes her head helplessly.

Now it’s too silent in the room.

They are staring at each other wordlessly, frightened at the revelation, which now fills the air between them with a somber heaviness.

Fitz finally looks away, staring back at the empty paper in front of him.  
The blank whitness suddenly seems like it's mocking him.  
What is he even trying to do?  
He feels like a failure. The feeling is way too familiar by now.

Finally, he drops the pencil, stands up and walks to Jemma.  
When he stops in front of her, he sees the tears in her eyes and feels even more guilty.  
_I’m sorry …_  
He opens his arms for her.

Jemma immediately sinks into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his body with a quiet, sobbing sound.

Fitz sighs into her hair, closing his eyes.  
“I’m sorry Jemma. I’m trying. I really am. I just can’t stand the thought of you being hurt. And as long as I can’t be sure … as long as I can’t truly trust myself, I … I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to start,” he tells her in a trembling voice.

“We can start with little things,” Jemma says softly, her fingers playing with the collar of his cardigan. “A touch. A kiss. Nothing too overwhelming. Just … let’s do it step by step. Together. Don’t push me away. I can’t … it’s breaking my heart, Fitz.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay, Jemma …”

But in his head, the words are loud and clear.  
He suddenly knows, that this is not the way to do this.  
It’s not the way to get even remotely better.  
Not for him.  
And not for Jemma.

So he starts to think about how to tell her.

*

Jemma starts to get back to learn about animal biology again. It has always fascinated her and she'd often wished, she could extend her studies on it, but Shield never offered much opportunities to tend to personal hobbies.

Now, with no new dangers around them, she finally has the opportunity to get back to it. She buys a few interesting books and starts to experiment with dead animals again, which scares everyone else away. Jemma admits to herself that she isn’t really sad about that fact …

She uses the lab at the Lighthouse. It’s not ideal. But it’s enough for now.

On a Sunday, she eventually notices that she is too tired for any serious stuff now, so she entertains herself with reading some articles on her iPad, like: “Jellyfish have superpowers – and other reasons they don’t deserve their bad reputation” or “Do worms have tongues?”

At some point, she hears slow, uncertain steps approaching the lab.

After a moment, Fitz enters quietly, leaning against the frame of the door.  
He nervously plays with his hands.

Jemma glances at him from the corner of her eyes and immediately knows that there’s something important he has to say.  
She reads him like one of her books.

But still, she doesn’t stop reading the article.   
She’s too scared of what it might be, that he wants to tell her.  
Her heart thumbs loud and wild in her chest.

Finally Fitz clears his throat.  
The words he all but bursts out sound, like they were inside his head for a long time.  
“I think I want to go and see my mum, Jemma.”

“Oh.”  
Jemma freezes. Her eyes remain fixed on the screen in front of her, the words hovering in front of her.  
_“You have probably seen worms in the soil in your garden, or maybe your family has a worm farm, where worms eat up your fruit and vegetable scraps. These worms are called earthworms …”_

“Okay,” she says.

 _No._  
_Don’t go._  
_Don’t leave me._  
_Don’t …_

Fitz nods.  
“Just … for a few days maybe. Or a bit longer.”

Jemma closes her eyes for a moment.  
_A few days._  
He’s going to leave her.  
He’s going to …

“Jemma?”

She just lost him. Found him.  
And now he will be gone again.  
She will be alone. Like in all those nights she spent hugging his cardigans against her chest, soaking the fabric with her tears, whimpering his name …

“Jemma, look at me.”

She opens her eyes surprised. Fitz is now standing in front of her, looking at her worriedly.  
“Hey,” he says softly. “Jemma …”

She feels her chest tighten and shakes her head.  
“I can’t … you can’t … I just found you, Fitz,” she whispers.

Fitz nods. He lays a warm hand on her cheek. She leans into the touch.  
“Listen, Jemma. This … this is not me trying to get away from you. But it’s me, trying to find a way to get back to me first, before I can be able to be there for you. You remember the night you told me I’m avoiding you? Well. It’s true, Jemma. And I’m so, so sorry. I’m just … I don’t know what to do. I try to understand, Jemma. I’m trying all the time. But I don’t even know where to start. The prison? The hallucinations? The things you remember I don’t, because I was asleep? The fear in Daisy's eyes everytime she looks at me, altough she's trying to hide it? It's ... It’s too much.”

He stops and takes a deep breath.  
But there seems to be more he wants to say.  
So Jemma waits.

“I didn’t see my mum for ages,” Fitz finally mumbles. “She’s in Scotland, alone, not knowing what’s happening. It isn’t right. And … I think exactly the fact, that she doesn’t know, is what would help me. In Scotland, at her flat, there’s the room I grew up in, Jemma. And that was _real_. I have to feel how real it was. I have to …”

He looks at her pleadingly, like he begs her to understand.  
And she does.  
It hurts, but she does.

Jemma swallows and nods.  
“Okay. If that’s what you need to do … If that’s what would help, than go. It’s alright.”

She feels her heart painfully clenching at the thought of being without him.  
But maybe he’s right.  
Maybe it’s what he needs. What _they_ need. A break? A time out?  As much as it hurts, she has to admit that how it is now, is not helping anyone of them.

“Thank you,” Fitz says, stroking her cheek softly. “I love you so much. I will do anything to make you happy. And please Jemma, _be_ happy. Do things that fulfil you. Don’t just think about all the pain and heartbreak from the past. Do what you always wanted to do. And if it’s crazy, be a little bit crazy. You have the whole team here, caring for you. They are all there for you. Do something crazy together with Daisy. Be friends again. Help Mack to stop being so bloody serious all the time …”

Jemma involuntarily smiles.  
“I will try,” she whispers. “But without you … life never feels whole without you, Fitz. Everything I do feels better with you by my side.”

He nods.  
“I know … It won’t be for long, I promise. Just … let me figure out a few things. Let me understand how I’m supposed to go on. Here …”

He suddenly presses something in her hand.  
It’s the tiny monkey figure, that his mother once gifted him as a lucky charm.  
Surprised, she closes her fingers around the warm wood.  
“Fitz,” she breathes. “Are you sure? You’ve been carrying it with you since you are eight years old …”

He nods, smiling down at her.  
“It’s alright. I know he’s safe with you.”

“Okay,” Jemma whispers.

Fitz smiles at her.

He gives her one last kiss on her forehead.

Then he’s gone.

Jemma looks after him, not sure what she’s supposed to feel.

She looks at the monkey in her hand and allows herself to cry.  
It feels more liberating than she expected.

*

Daisy comes into his bunk, as he’s packing his things.  
“You’re leaving?” She asks curtly.

Fitz nods, folding his shirts in a concentrated rhythm.  
“Yeah. Just for a while.”

“Did you talk about it with Jemma?” Daisy asks him and now she sounds like she would kick his ass if he didn’t. “Because … Fitz, she really did anything to find you in space. So if you …”

“We talked about it,” Fitz tells her calmly. “And she said it’s okay.”

He looks up at Daisy, who frowns doubtfully.

“This isn’t an escape, Daisy. I need to do this to clear my thoughts,” he tries to explain her. “Trust me. I’ll be back, as soon as I know how to go on. Right now, I’m just confused and … lost.”

The frown disappears from Daisy’s frown. Suddenly, she looks tired.  
“Maybe we all should do what you are going to do,” she murmurs. “Maybe we all should get some fresh air. And some time to … to process. To think.”

“Yeah.” Fitz smiles faintly. “This is a mess, isn’t it.”

Daisy sighs.  
“The biggest mess I’ve ever seen. But Fitz,” she looks at him seriously. “I will miss you. And … take care of you, alright?”

“I will,” he tells her and nods. “I promise.”

*

“You’re sure you don’t want company, Turbo? I wouldn’t mind going with you, you know …”

Fitz shakes his head. He looks up at Mack’s worried, uncertain face and tries to smile reassuringly.  
They’re standing at the busy airport, waiting for Fitz’s flight, which – of course – was delayed.  
“Yeah. I am sure. I’ll be fine, Mack. Don’t worry. I just want to go home now.”

 _Home._  
The word tastes strange on his tongue. But not in a bad way.  
It’s the home of his childhood and part of his youth.  
It wasn't always perfect. But his mother and he made it into something safe and warm, he thinks.

Mack scratches the back of his head.  
“Okay. But you’ll message us, won’t you? Just so we know you’re alright?”

Fitz nods.    
It feels rather nice to know, that they care. Especially because he constantly has to fight the thick fog of doubt in his mind, that wants to tell him that everyone will be glad he leaves on his own.  
“I will.”

“Good.” Mack pats him on the back.  
He seems like he wants to say something important.  
Fitz waits patiently.  

“I’m incredibly glad that you’re here, Turbo,” Mack finally says. “And I want you to know, that you’re one of the most important people in my life. Your trust means so much to me. I don’t know, if I deserve it. I fucked up, Fitz. I really did. Friends are supposed to see if the other is in pain or has issues. I didn’t. And there isn’t a day I don’t regret this. So please, if you ever feel like I fuck up, tell me. I want to be there for you. And I want you to know, that you can tell me, if there’s something that bothers you.” He stops, his eyes a bit wet.

Fitz blinks. Mack’s words, uttered in open honesty, warm his heart. At the same time, he’s reminded of Jemma’s stories. _He saw you dying … He was heartbroken after it. Didn’t leave his bunk for days. He feels guilty and like a bad friend. He cares so much about you Fitz. But it was difficult. Everything was difficult. Maybe he hopes you can forgive him …_  
“Thank you Mack. I … I know that you wouldn’t hurt me out of purpose, Mack. People make mistakes. If you made a mistake, that doesn’t make you a bad friend. Quite the contrary. You realised you did something not so good and you want to do it better. So that’s enough.”

Mack looks like he’s grateful for Fitz’s words, but there’s also a hint of sadness in his eyes.  
“But we don’t always get second chances,” he says. “And back then … I didn’t know there was going to be one, Fitz.”

Fitz swallows.  
He feels Mack’s pain in those words.  
But he doesn’t really know what to say to that.  
“But now you have it. That second chance. _We_ have it. So it doesn’t make sense to think more about what could have been if not. It would drive you – us – crazy,” he says carefully.

Mack just nods. He looks relieved. After a moment, he stares at his watch and frowns.  
“We have to hurry now. Come on.”

*

When he’s finally on the plane, Fitz feels both glad and guilty. The latter is familiar to him. So it’s just like an old companion, that visits him although it’s inconvenient.

He gets his earphones from his bag and searches for a song, that doesn’t remind him of Jemma. First, it seems like an unsolvable task. But then, he finds ["Simple Man"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMmTkKz60W8), and can’t skip it. He listens, again and again, while the plane moves through the night calmly. He listens, a tear in the corner of his eye, the ghost of a lost smile on his face.  

 _"Boy, don't you worry, you'll find yourself_  
_Follow your heart and nothing else_  
_And you can do this, oh baby, if you try_  
_All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied"_

 

*

 

Fitz walks the street to his mother’s flat, feeling both anxious and excited.  
Almost nothing changed.  
He walks past familiar houses, passes a parc and a bench he often used to sit on and read.  
Memories are hidden everywhere.

Sometimes, people look at him curiously.  
That reminds him, that he’s a stranger now. He doesn’t really belong here anymore.  
But that’s okay.  
He’s used to the feeling of not belonging by now.

The nearer Fitz gets to his old home, the more he starts to think about how his mother will react.  
The thought of her warms his heart and fills his soul with much needed hope.

All of a sudden, he’s there, standing in front of his mother’s house, his old home.  
He swallows.  
He needs some moment until he finds the courage to knock at the door.  
Then, he steps back and holds his breath.

The door opens slowly, revealing his mother, who looks outside with a frown.  
She sees him, and her eyes widen.  
“Leo?” She asks, raising a trembling hand to touch his cheek. “Leo. It’s you … my boy.”

“Mum,” he breathes. “Mum …”

She hugs him, whispering “Oh my boy. My grown up, beautiful boy …” into his ear.  
He inhales her familiar scent, feels her warmth and feels like he arrived.

After a moment, she backs away, to look up at him, the bright smile on her face letting wrinkles appear around her brown eyes. He notices, that she has a bit grey in her curly dark hair now, especially around the temples. And there are a few more wrinkles in her face. But otherwise, she didn’t change at all, he thinks. 

“Come in,” his mother tells him, and enters the flat, quickly wiping her eyes.

Fitz follows her inside a bit uncertain, looking around curiously.  
He smiles involuntarily, when he sees the pictures on the wall in the hallway.  
His own eyes stare back at him multiple times. On some pictures, he’s alone, trying to ride a bike for the first time or is reading a book with a concentrated frown. But on others, he’s with his mother, preparing a pumpkin for Halloween with her, or just hugging her, while she’s laughing.

His father is nowhere to be seen.

The living room changed a bit. The walls are blue instead of yellow now. And there’s a new couch. Fitz remembers, that their old one was almost completely ruined, as his father fell asleep with a cigarette on it once. They couldn’t afford any new furniture, as Alistair Fitz left them a bunch of debts. He quickly shoves that thought away. It's unfortunate, he thinks, that everything in this flat is also connected to a person he doesn't want to see ever again, but in the end, the good things count more.

When Fitz sits down on the new couch, his mother asks, “Do you want some tea, love?”

He nods.

“This nice guy from Shield, how was his name again,” his mother mumbles, while she’s putting a steaming mug in front of him. “Ah. _Coulson_. He sent me a letter.”

“He did?” Fitz asks, surprised.  
At the same time, his throat clenches.  
Coulson …  
For all that he knows, he could be dead now.

“Yes. Wait a moment …” She opens a drawer, rummaging in it for a while. Finally, she takes out a simple, white envelope, handing it to Fitz.

He looks at it, swallowing when he sees the words on it.  

_Agent Fitz._

He frowns.   
How could Coulson know that he would go here?  
Did he just guess?  
He nervously fumbles with the paper.  
“I’m not sure I can read this,” he murmurs, feeling anxious.

His mother smiles at him. She sits down on the couch beside him, putting her own mug on the coffee table.    
“Read it when you’re ready, love,” she tells him, patting his cheek lovingly. “I’ve made pie. Do you want some?”

Fitz nods, smiling. He remembers her cake. They baked them together. Pie-Sundays. A routine that he always wanted to introduce to his own future family.

When his mother brings him a piece of it, he sees that i’s a banana cream pie, and for one moment he’s surprised because this pie has always been his favourite one. Coincidence again. Sometimes it’s quite scary.

He starts to eat and can’t help but hum in pleasure at the familiar taste.

His mother is watching him, smiling, her hands folded in her lap.  
She looks at him with open, unrestrained adoration in her eyes.  
When Fitz notices it, he can’t decide if he should feel glad or guilty.  
In the end, it’s a strange mixture of those two things.  
She doesn’t know what he did.  
What would she say, how would she look at him, if she knew?

He clears his throat.  
“Can I stay here for a few days?”

She looks a bit surprised, but also pleased.  
“Darling. You can stay as long as you want to.”

Fitz nods.  
“Thank you."

His mother takes a sip of her tea, watching him attentively.  
“Is Jemma alright?” She asks then.

Fitz swallows and looks aside.  
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “She is fine.”

“You two didn’t argue, did you?” She asks with a hint of worry in her voice.

“No,” Fitz says, shaking his head. “It’s  just … a  lot of things happened and … I needed a break. I needed to be … here.”  
He knows that this sounds way too vague, but his mother doesn’t press him. She just nods and says, “Alright.”

For a while, they’re drinking their tea in silence.

Fitz asks himself, how he should explain the things that happened.  
It’s so much.  
And he can’t bear the thought of his mother being disappointed of him …  
But he can’t act like nothing happened.  
He can feel, that she senses something’s off anyway.

He takes a deep breath.  
“Mum.”

She looks at him attentively.  
“Yes, love?”

“Um … Things happened. In the past. A lot happened. It’s all very confusing and I don’t know if I can talk about everything just now. But you should know that I … that I did some really bad things, mum,” he says desperately, watching her face.

She tilts her head, the softness in her eyes not changing.   
She doesn’t ask _what_ he did do.  
Instead she asks softly, “Why did you do those things?”

Fitz swallows.  
“Um …” He looks at his hands, taking a deep breath. “I did them to … to protect the people I love. But … one time, I did them because I was manipulated.” He makes a bitter noise, clenching one of his hands into a fist. “I was made to believe I lived another life. One, that made me into someone who hurts people instead of protecting them. And there’s so much more, mum. It’s so much …”  
He stops, feeling tears burning in his eyes.  
“I’m just scared that I’m going to lose myself,” he whispers. "I wanted to work for Shield because I thought I would be able to build things that help people. And because I wanted to challenge myself. I didn't want to shoot someone. Or ... or stab someone with a pipe. But I had no choice." He takes a deep breath, looking at his shaking fist. "They didn't give me a choice," he mumbles.

“Oh darling,” his mother breathes, laying an arm around him. “That sounds horrible. I know by now that being at Shield is dangerous and can mean to do some things, that seem bad and cruel. But if you did them to protect people you love … it’s something else than doing them just because, darling. And you are always caring so much about everyone … it’s dangerous but also wonderful.”    
She points at his chest and smiles faintly.  
“Your heart. It has always been so open and full of understanding for other people. Do you remember how you used to visit Mr. Richards?”

Fitz nods.  
“The lonely old man who was living across the street,” he murmurs.

“Yes. You noticed how lonely he was. He was always standing at the window, looking outside with a blank face. But then you asked me, if you could visit him.” She smiles at the memory. “You said you wanted to make him smile again. You went to him and asked if he likes science. You read to him a lot. And he started to smile. He was always smiling when he saw you.”  
She strokes his back.  
“Him being happier … it made _you_ happy. And when he died, you were heartbroken. Sometimes you care too much. But it’s better than not caring at all. You’re special.”

He looks at her, seeing the love in her eyes and feeling a lot better already. Less heavier.  
But he’s also incredibly tired now.  
And he feels he can’t talk more today.  
“There’s much more crazy stuff,” he tells his mother and sighs. “So much, that maybe I need to write it down or … or maybe I should go to a therapist. I don’t know.”

His mother smiles at him.  
“How about you go to your room and take a nap? You seem to need the rest. And after that, we can talk more. Think about what you want to do next. And you can read the letter. Maybe it will give you an answer, who knows?”

Fitz nods, relived.  
“Okay. Sleep sounds good …”

*

Fitz enters his old room slowly, hesitantly.  
He looks around.  
Nothing changed.

There are still his science books on the shelf. There are so many that he wonders, that the wood didn’t break under the weight at some point.  
On the wall there are some posters of space.  
He involuntarily shudders at the sight.  
In the past, he loved to look at them. He imagined building a space ship, discovering distant planets …  
But now, he can’t bear to see them.  
After some hesitance, he takes them from the wall, folds them and puts them on the desk.

Then he sits down on the bed and looks at the letter in his hand.  
He swallows nervously, not sure if he’s ready to read Coulson’s words …  
But finally, his curiosity is stronger than his anxiety, and he opens the envelope, taking out a single piece of paper.  
He unfolds it and starts to read.

 

* * *

Fitz,  
I guess you just woke up from a long nap, wondering about what's going on.  
Well. Unfortunately, I can't be there, because I'm dying. Yeah, I know ... _again_. But this time it's for real.  
It's alright. I'm ready for this adventure.  
But I wanted to tell you some things.

This is hard. Harder than I expected, to be honest. I was never good at saying goodbye. But this is one. This time it’s definite. There won't be a second trial. So I have to find the right words.

Fitz.  
Sometimes, life is terribly unfair. It gives us fathers, who don’t appreciate our value. It gives us tragedies, when we just try to help people and do literal miracles. It gives us traitors, who we started to consider as friends and even more. It gives us injuries, who threatens our most important strengths.  
You went through a lot of horrible things, Fitz. And I  know it isn’t always easy to see the light in all the shadows. But let me tell you: it gets better. Trust me. There’s a future waiting for you. Never forget that. (There's a cottage in Scotland for you and Jemma. Don't tell her yet. Consider it as my gift for your wedding. This time, I can't take part, unfortunately.)  
  
There are so many things that I admire about you, you know?  
You’re an incredibly talented engineer. Thanks for all the cool hands you built me (Okay, I admit that sounds a bit strange.)  
You’re kind and loyal. You saw the best in someone, even when others were trying to convince you of the opposite.  
You’re stronger than most people I know. Because you always stood up and fought back. You never gave up, even when we others were ready to do it. You followed your heart and it always led you into the right direction.  
You also won’t give up now, I know it.  
You will wake up in a strange world, Fitz. But don’t be scared. Everyone around you cares for you and you don’t have to do it alone.  
You’re never alone.

I know, that you sometimes think, you’re not enough. That you think, you’re damaged or a bad guy. But you’re just human, Fitz. And you know how to be it, like no one else of us does. The Framework gave you false memories and don’t forget, that it’s just a fake life. You will always be stronger than that other, programmed version of you. He was just a puppet, a product of manipulation, anger and false love. He was everything you aren’t, and that’s why you will beat him.

But also don’t forget, that it’s okay to not be okay.  
It’s okay to ask for help.  
Therapy really helps.  
It helps to talk to someone who wasn’t involved.  
Ask May, when she’s back. I’m sure she can help you a lot.  
You can do this.  
I’m sure.

Fitz,  
It was a pleasure to know you. And you mean so much more to me than the word “Agent” can express. You’re like a son to me. And like a true father, I want nothing but happiness for you.  
You deserve it, Fitz.  
You deserve it all.

Like an old song, I have always loved and know by heart, says:  
_"Boy, don't you worry, you'll find yourself_  
_Follow your heart and nothing else_  
_And you can do this, oh baby, if you try_  
_All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied"_

 

Goodbye, son.  
I couldn’t be prouder of you.

 

_Phil Coulson_

 

* * *

 

By the time, he finished the letter, Fitz soaked the paper with tears.  
His heart feels heavy and light at the same time.  
I couldn’t be prouder of you, he reads again and again.

And "Simple Man".  
The next incredible coincidence …

There’s a storm of thoughts in his head. The strongest, clearest one is:  
_I needed those words._

“Thank you,” he whispers, clutching the letter to his chest. “Thank you …”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you try banana cream pie?! It's soooo good.  
> [banana cream pie](https://omgchocolatedesserts.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Banana-Cream-Pie-11.jpg)
> 
> I'm not a native speaker and always grateful for being corrected! I'm constantly trying to improve my English, so please don't hesitate to tell me about mistakes. <3
> 
> Visit me on tumblr: [ready-to-kick-some-ass](https://ready-to-kick-some-ass.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
